#the stars in their wings turn to eyes and its like their wings are melting into dark ink. covering the screen

[howlonomy]

First of all, This AU, your art, and m!clover are just- kicking my hyperfixation to a whole new level, tbh. I adore all of this sosososo much and I was deadass stimming from how excited I was!

On that note! You've mentioned that Clover has the (albeit small outside of very specific circumstances) possibility of melting with too much DT, so as such, my angst loving ass, wonders if you could give us an idea as to how that might look, if that's okie!

(And as an aside: This is purely headcanon, but with the little heart (soul?) attacks they already have sometimes, I imagine that if they tried to force themselves to keep going through an attack, their body would not like it, and start dripping just a little bit, stabilizing again when things calm down, but it still begins. For instance, if an attack happened during a serious battle or smth. and they couldn't just stop, for obvious reasons.)

Anywho! Those are just some thoughts after reading through literally all of your monster clover au stuff over the span of a few days!

FIRST OF ALL THANK YOU!!! that makes me so happy to hear how much you’ve been enjoying the au augahaug 🥹🥹

second of all, here ya go!!

i imagine the caption would be something like “you feel the eyes of judgment weighing upon your soul” or something like that. AND I LOVE THAT IDEA SO MUCH i think something like that would happen outside of this little au within and au as well!!

clover practicing new attacks with kanako and they push themselves a little too far and just. a fleck of dust shakes off their hand. its not great but it gives good standard for what their limits are.

[regardtheinnocent]

Ororon x male reader who is delighted with his little ears and wings?? This emo boy is too cute, and what if reader abuses his cute features during sex.I am sure that he will blush a lot from such attention! I love him too much. 😔

Contains: Dom!GN!Reader, Sub!Ororon, Lots of position changing 😅, Teasing (character receiving), Penetration (character receiving), reader has a cock/strap on, Ororon being a cutie pie, safeword exists but isn't referenced *note: I love him too, I fear that I'm a sucker for emo & bat characters haha.

Your hands drift to fondle Ororon's soft ears as they often do. You gently press your thumb, pointer and middle fingers together and begin rubbing them, finding it amusing that the poor farmer instantly quieted down.

"These ears of your's are sooo soft, love. I could pet them all day." You hum to him, choosing to ignore the current predicament that you were both in.

What was said predicament?

Well, you were buried deep in the poor thing, much too deep— he might add. You had him all sprawled out on your bed, his marked up and shaking thighs thrown over your shoulders.

Ororon swore his eyes rolled back slightly when you leaned forward to get a better angle to touch his ears. The sudden shift in movement made you press so much deeper, your tip felt like it was bullying his prostate at this point.

A weak squeal left the man's lips he tried his very best to shy away from your touch.

Not that you let him, of course.

No, you just had to move one of your hands down to his waist and hold him still. Fuck, Ororon was seeing stars.

"Mm.. God, pl—please [Name], you don't need to touch— Ah! them.." The farmer slurred back as he tried to keep his eyes open as best he could.

"Too deep— hngh ugh.." Ororon whined as you moved yet again. It was cute that the little bat was acting so shy all of a sudden.

Though, Ororon's wings flapped uselessly at his sides, prompting you to move your hand from his waist to hold onto one of them.

Gently, naturally. You didn't want to hurt him, after all.

"Its so hard not to though, sweetheart. And these wings that are fluttering around are just too tempting.." You reply as a slight smirk adorns your lips.

Ororon just shakes his head as he attempts at keeping his embarrassingly needy moans at bay. Which he fails at.

Then, you begin to move your hips again. You pull out halfway before pushing back in, watching as your baby goes cross eyed in an instant.

"You've been too chatty, angel. I must not be doing my job good enough, hmm?" You tease as Ororon manages to weakly kick at your back with his heels.

It was involuntary, really. He was just too stimulated and didn't know what to do.

When you left his ears alone for a moment, the farmer breathed a sigh of relief— only for said breath to turn into a squeal when you take his legs in your hands and fold him in half.

Though, once you've got him bent nicely, you only bother to use a single hand to hold both of his calves together.

You were doing an amazing job at bullying the poor thing with your body, watching him fall apart as you grabbed one of his wings.

"Nooo— Hnghh- ah! S'too muchh..." Ororon slurs out in a whiny voice as his mind melted more and more.

You gave his bat wing a gentle tug in response. You, of course, make sure not to be too rough when doing so.

Though, it was rough enough for the farmer to arch his back as cum shot out of his cock without warning. He let out his loudest squeal yet, which was really quite embarrassing in pitch.

Oh... his face is so pretty when he comes. It always is.

You paused for a moment, before a nice smile spread across your face. You weren't done with Ororon yet, not when you'd just made him finish from a wing tug. Oh no no no.

Instead, you flip him on his tummy for easier access to his pretty wings.

"Whu— [Name]-! I just caAAH—" You interrupt your darling mid sentence by promptly gripping both of his wings by the base and using them for leverage to fuck back into his hole.

All poor Ororon can do is claw and grab at the pillows and sheets in a desperate but vain attempt to ground himself.

You snap your hips forward over and over again as you feel your lover tighten around you. Its like he wants to keep you inside, how adorable.

Ororon can feel the burn of overstimulation settling in quite quickly, after all you're fucking him like an animal.

Though, he can only sob into the pillows as he feels the coil in his tummy tighten again, getting ready to snap again.

"Ple— Please!" Ororon all but begs as his cock rubs against the sheets, giving him more feelings that he can't handle.

"You can cum again, can't you, baby? Yeah.. you can do it." You coo back in a jarringly soothing voice, one that made the poor thing want to relax despite everything.

So he simply nods into the pillows as you continue plowing him from behind, and eventually, he shoots another load right against the previously soiled sheets.

"Goodd boy..." You groan as you tug on his wings, getting him to let out a few more spirts of cum before finally letting him rest.

You pull out slowly and your hands switch to tenderly rubbing over the bases of the farmer's wings, easing the soreness that would likely form in the coming hours.

"You did so good for me." You murmur and Ororon responds with a weak purr.

[mustangbby]

GIRL DAD OR BOY DAD? - sunday, boothill x reader

- or more clearly, to what gender would they want to have more, and general headcannons of them as papas ☺️

- brainrot brainrot brainrot BRAINROT AHHH... i love these guys and i can do a part 2 for others later but godd theres absolutely not enough dad stuff for these men (especially sunday... if there is its all yandere) so never fear novas here! ahem anyways enjoy

- warnings none! pure fluff!!! wc 711

Sunday is so a girl and boy dad.

Reason why I say this is because he likely needs an heir to take over his position when he gets too old to do so, but he also wants a baby girl he can spoil as well.

Don’t worry! He loves both of his kids the same! They’re the greatest things that have probably ever happened to him and he cherishes them with his whole life. He thanks the stars above every single day for the opportunity he received to be a father to multiple beautiful children, and thanks you for granting him the chance. 

Dunno, but I could see this man wanting a handful of kids. He wants at least one girl and at least one boy, but I could see him shooting for 3-4. Will he be around to care for them? Not all the time, but he tries his hardest (and he definitely has the resources to care for that many).

Considering they’re half halovian and half human, they look pretty much just like their father! Some have your eyes, but they all have his hair. His hair and his gorgeous wings. They have your features though, such as your face, body type, etc.

His favorite part of the day is when he gets to collapse on your shared bed, his kiddos following behind him to cuddle their dad, and most of the time you all fall asleep together. Normally, you wake up just you and him because he’s good about putting them in their own bed once they fall asleep.

Once his kids get older, he’ll teach his son(s) combat and good form. He wants them to protect, and wants to raise them to be strong and independent. With his daughter(s), if they ask to be taught combat, then he won’t see much of an issue with it. He also wants to teach them independence, but in a more subtle form. 

Just expect that his children as teenagers are going to be the prettiest kids around holy shit. They’re obviously enrolled in a private school due to their fathers high status but they always come home and list the compliments they’ve received that day. Thankfully you two have raised them well enough for them to realize that it’ll be bad if all of these get to their head and stroke their ego too hard…

Supportive father asf! All I’ve gotta say here

Don’t play Boothill is SO a girl dad hello have you met the man

He’s so excited when his little girl is born ahh he’s always dreamed of being a father to a girl and his dream has officially come true!!

Obviously, if you had a boy, he’d love him the same. He just wants children of his own tbh lol

His daughter knows western culture fresh out of the womb my friend. It’s like she was born for little cowboy boots and the cutest little cowboy hat. She’s even got a western name, he brought it up and you liked it, so the name you two settled on was Cassidy.

She has his hair! It’s absolutely gorgeous once it starts coming in- a pearly white color with little black streaks stemming from the roots. She has your eyes and your face, and his slimmer body type (before he was turned into a cyborg. This isn’t canon I actually have no clue what he looked like pre cyborgification lmao).

Oh lord, your daughter is so spoiled. On every mission he goes on he’s always bringing something back for her. It could be a super fancy necklace or even just a little trinket he picked up from a street vendor, but she has a whole shelf full of the things her daddy gives her.

She thinks it’s so cool he has a metal body. She asks about it alot but she’s really fascinated with it tbh. She likes to call it “daddy’s special feature!” and he always melts to that sentence gosh

He probably teaches his daughter how to use a gun when she gets older. He, similar to Sunday, wants his daughter to learn self defense tactics and learn how to fend for herself when necessary.

She totally has his accent. Change my mind period.

[redvexillum]

A/N: Kit, how dare you issue a challenge? I'mma come over and cough all over.... your keyboard! That's right! Biological warfare baby! Jks. I can't get out of my bed, lol.

SUMMARY: Every year on Christmas Eve, you meet Lucifer, your mentor. He regales you with tales from down below, and despite the passing years, you realize that your love for him has never faded.

TAGS/WARNINGS:  f!reader, soft sex, p in v, angel!reader, naive!reader, virgin!reader, first time reader, touchstarved!lucifer, cunnilingus, fingering

Laughter drifted like silken ribbons through the crisp evening air, weaving its way seamlessly into the chorus of crackling firewood and the quiet hum of the night. Above, the stars gleamed with a fractured beauty, like shattered jewels scattered across the inky sky. Each flicker was a ghost of light from stars long gone, their brilliance enduring even after their death—a poignant reminder of their fragility and their fleeting splendour of existence. 

The fire before you burned steady, casting warm golden halos against the encroaching chill. The scent of smoke mingled with the earthy aroma of wood, laced faintly with a sweetness that teased the edges of memory. Enveloped in the soft cocoon of your snowy white wings, you dared a glance at the figure across from you. 

Lucifer. 

He was once your mentor, your guide into the delicate art of creation—the delicate skill of weaving light, life, and beauty into existence. Even now, after his fall, he sat there with the same ethereal glow, though tarnished in the eyes of Heaven. His rosy cheeks, flushed as though kissed by frost, and his gentle smile felt like the warmth of a distant sun. 

Yet, the whispers of his past lingered like shadows. The Seraphs spoke in riddles, never fully divulging the sin that led to his fall. He had become the emblem of rebellion, the cautionary tale told to every fledgling angel. To humanity and the choir of angels, he was the harbinger of evil and sin. 

But to you? 

He was still him. 

“Want a s’more?” His voice broke the spell of your thoughts, warm and smooth, carrying a hint of playful curiosity. He held out the human treat, the graham crackers precariously balanced between fingers that had once wielded the glory of celestial creation. 

You nodded, reaching eagerly for the offering. At the first bite, a delightful medley of flavours melted onto your tongue—the silk of chocolate, the airy sweetness of marshmallow, and the crisp crunch of graham crackers. Your eyes lit up with unabashed delight. 

“Mmm!” you hummed, your grin radiant as you turned to him. 

Lucifer chuckled, his laughter low and rich, like a song from a time you thought you’d forgotten. He leaned back, busying himself with crafting another treat, his motions unhurried and precise. Around you, colourful lights danced on strings, their cheerful glow a stark contrast to the quiet of the winter night. 

You hadn’t planned to see him again after that fateful chance encounter in the human realm. Yet here you were, meeting him each year on Christmas Eve, reliving fragments of a bond that time had refused to sever. 

Your gaze drifted to his profile, illuminated by the soft amber light. There was something mesmerizing about the way his hair caught the glow, the way his sharp features softened in the firelight. 

The chill of the night was no match for the flush warming your cheeks. You didn’t mean to feel this way, to let your thoughts spiral into forbidden territory. 

He was your mentor. 

Your guide.

Your… 

But the space between respect and yearning had blurred, year after year, as comfort gave way to an ache you couldn’t ignore. You told yourself it was admiration. 

That it had to be. 

“So,” Lucifer’s voice stirred you from your reverie, casual yet tinged with something unreadable. “How are things up there?” His words held an edge of hesitance, his unnatural crimson eyes flitting to meet yours briefly before darting away. 

Your breath caught as your gaze fell to the faint glint of a golden band on his fourth finger. A thousand questions stirred in your chest, each one more painful than the last. 

And yet, you smiled. 

You always smiled for him. 

Blinking back the twisting discomfort in your stomach, you forced a bright smile to your lips, wide enough to mask the unease threatening to spill over. “Oh, you know, same old, same old,” you sighed theatrically, shrugging your shoulders in an exaggerated gesture. “It’s been ages since anyone’s come up with anything truly inspired. No creativity, no innovation… just endless routine.” 

Your gaze flickered nervously to Lucifer, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw his face light up—golden hues flushing his cheeks, a grin spreading wide and utterly unguarded across his face. 

“Well, isn’t that just typical!” he exclaimed, effortlessly crossing his legs and setting the fourth s’more neatly on the plate beside him. His movements were so quick and precise you barely caught them. “Those old coots upstairs wouldn’t recognize genius if it smacked them right in their self-righteous halos!” 

A giggle slipped from you, muffled only slightly by the hand you pressed to your mouth. It was still enough to escape, carrying the sound of bubbling joy across the air. His audacity—speaking so brazenly about the elders of Heaven—never failed to amuse you. But wasn’t that just one of the reasons why you… why you… 

Your chest tightened, a bittersweet ache swelling inside you. You didn’t want this moment to end. You longed for the days when you could see him whenever you pleased, like you had in those ancient, untarnished eons. 

Your wings puffed up instinctively, a reflexive motion that startled Lucifer enough to make him flinch. “Oh! S-sorry!” you stammered, cringing at the sudden disruption. “I just… remembered something!” 

With a renewed determination, you reached into your pocket, your fingers brushing against smooth rubber. When you pulled it free, your smile grew brighter, almost trembling with anticipation. You held it out to him with both hands. 

Lucifer’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. He blinked once, then again, his gaze drifting from the object in your hands to your face. His lips, usually quick to curve into a grin, remained frozen in place. 

A flicker of nervousness gnawed at your resolve, but you clung to your bright expression, even as it faltered just slightly. “I-I heard that tomorrow is a day when people exchange gifts and spend time together,” you began hesitantly, heat crawling up your neck to bloom across your cheeks. “And, well… you once mentioned you liked ducks, so… I made this for you.” 

The small object in your hands was a pink rubber duck, its shimmering ruby eyes catching the firelight. Tiny white wings adorned its back, delicately crafted and fluffy to the touch. It wasn’t much, but it was something you’d poured your heart into—something that reminded you of the first time Lucifer had taught you the joy of creating. You still remembered the wooden duck he had given you all those years ago, a keepsake of simpler times. 

“If you squeeze it here,” you demonstrated, giving the duck a gentle press. The tiny beak opened, letting out a soft, endearing quack, and the little wings began to flap, the duck hovering just slightly above your palm. 

Your heart pounded as you looked up at him, hope filling your eyes. Surely, he’d see how much this meant. 

For a moment, Lucifer’s expression was unreadable, his blank stare heavy and unnerving. But then, his lips curved into a wide, mischievous grin. “Oh, wow!” he drawled, plucking the duck from your hands and turning it over to examine it closely. “You’ve really improved! Your craftsmanship is getting impressive.” 

His words washed over you, sending a pleasant warmth trickling down your spine. “Y-you think so?” you asked, your voice tinged with shy pride as you leaned in slightly, desperate to bask in the glow of his approval. 

He glanced at you then, and for a moment, his eyes softened, their sharp edges melting into something infinitely more tender. His vibrant red eyes felt foreign, a reminder of all he had become, yet there was a piece of the mentor you once knew. No matter how he had changed, Lucifer still held an unshakable place in your heart. 

And in this quiet moment, you realized… perhaps he always would. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low, threaded with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. His eyes softened, a flicker of vulnerability shimmering within their depths like the faintest ember of a long-forgotten fire. His hand hovered, trembling slightly, mere inches from your cheek, as if he yearned to touch you but couldn’t bring himself to close the distance. “You don’t have to indulge this old fool every year, you know.” 

Your head tilted slightly, confusion knitting your brows. “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile moment. 

Lucifer sighed deeply, the sound heavy with unspoken words. His hand dropped back into his lap, his fingers curling protectively around the small gift you had made for him. His gaze followed, falling to the duck in his hand as if it held all the answers he couldn’t find. 

“I…” He hesitated, his lips pressing together before he let out a quiet, frustrated breath. His eyes darted to the side, then back to the fire, searching for the courage to continue. “I’ve been reminiscing. About my past—about our past. And it’s been wonderful to share it with you again, but—” 

Your chest tightened painfully, the weight of his unfinished words squeezing the air from your lungs. You didn’t want to hear it. Whatever he was about to say, it would break something inside you, something you weren’t ready to lose. 

Before you could think better of it, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. 

His shoulders jerked, startled, and his head whipped toward you, wide-eyed and unguarded. Your lips quirked into a nervous smile, and with a forced, breathless giggle, you tried to brush it off. “I took my gift from you, Lucifer!” you declared, your tone falsely cheerful. Your hands wrung together in your lap, betraying the storm of nerves churning inside you, and your heart pounded so loudly it drowned out the crackle of the fire. 

“A k-kiss,” you stammered, heat flooding your cheeks. “That’s… what I wanted.” 

It was innocent enough, wasn’t it? You had seen Seraphim offer kisses to their students in gestures of affection and encouragement. Surely, this wasn’t so different. 

Right? 

Lucifer blinked, slowly, as if processing your words. Then, a quiet “oh” escaped his lips, soft and unsure. He glanced at your face, his expression unreadable for a heartbeat that stretched into eternity. 

“I can do that,” he said at last, his voice a whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. 

He carefully placed the duck aside, tucking it safely into his pocket before leaning closer. When his lips met yours, it was gentle at first, barely a touch, but the softness of his mouth stole the air from your lungs. Your skin tingled where he brushed against you, sparking sensations that raced through your body like wildfire. 

The kiss deepened, and your hands instinctively rose, pressing against the lapels of his coat as you leaned into him. Your eyes fluttered shut, the world around you dissolving into the warmth of him, the faint scent of smoke and something earthy mingling with his own intoxicating presence. 

The quiet crackle of the fire mingled with the faint sounds of your lips meeting his. He pulled back slightly, just enough for your breaths to mingle, and his eyes caught yours. The red of his irises glowed softly, the colour unfamiliar yet achingly fitting for him. It was a shade you had never seen in Heaven, and yet it felt as though it had always belonged to him. 

“I miss these wings,” Lucifer murmured, his lips brushing against yours with every word. 

Before you could respond, his hand moved behind you, fingers grazing the base of your wings where they met your back. His touch was light, reverent, but the sensation that followed was anything but gentle. 

“Ah!” you gasped, a sharp cry escaping your lips as a surge of pleasure coursed through you, so intense it left you trembling. Your body gave out, collapsing against his chest as heat flooded your veins, setting every nerve alight. 

The sensations rippled through you in waves, overwhelming and indescribable. You buried your face against him, your breath ragged as you tried to steady yourself. It felt so good—too good, almost, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. 

“Lucifer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but his name on your lips felt like a sinful plea.

The moment your gaze met his, Lucifer claimed your lips again, his kiss deeper, more fervent than before. His tongue brushed against your lips, coaxing them apart with a temptation as sweet as it was forbidden. Each movement of his mouth sent shivers down your spine, and the heat pooling low in your belly intensified, an ache that demanded more. His hands roamed over you, skilled and deliberate, igniting sparks that left you breathless. Shame prickled at the edge of your thoughts, but it was drowned out by the wet, warm sensation pooling between your thighs. 

Your breath came in ragged gasps, mingling with the rustle of fabric and the faint crackle of the fire. His movements were fluid yet insistent as he guided you down onto the soft blanket beneath you. Lucifer hovered above, his arms caging you in, as if shielding you from the judgmental eyes of the Heavens above. 

In the firelight, his golden hair glowed, its brilliance rivalling the stars you had spent so many nights admiring. It was brighter than the sun, and yet infinitely more inviting. 

“My sweet angel,” he murmured, his voice trembling as though the words pained him. The nickname, long forgotten in the years since his fall, struck something deep within you, a chord of bittersweet memory. “Tell me to stop,” he pleaded, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath warm and unsteady against your skin. “We should… stop.” 

The word echoed in your mind—stop. But it felt so foreign, so wrong. You didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want to push him away, not now, not ever. His touch, his presence, the way he made you feel—it was all-consuming. You craved more. 

Your lips parted, and instead of telling him to stop, a soft plea escaped, barely audible yet filled with undeniable longing. A bashful smile curled at the corners of your lips, a silent answer to his hesitation. 

Lucifer shivered, his resolve faltering as his gaze searched yours. Then, he surrendered, dipping low to capture your lips once more. His hands moved over you, exploring with a reverence that made your heart ache. His touch ventured to places no one else had ever dared, yet there was no fear, no hesitation. With him, it felt right. 

Piece by piece, your clothes fell away, and his followed suit, each article shed like a layer of pretense until nothing remained but bare skin and shared warmth. The movements were slow, deliberate, almost ritualistic—a dance of devotion. The firelight caressed his form, and you found yourself mesmerized by the sight of him, by the way he looked at you as though you were the only thing that mattered in the universe. 

His lips trailed along your cheekbone, leaving a path of warmth in their wake, before finding the delicate curve of your neck. He pressed a kiss there, soft and lingering, and you felt him shudder, his breath trembling against your skin. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hold on you tightening, as though he feared you might vanish. 

Your chest pressed against his, your bodies aligned, and a new sensation bloomed within you—a mix of anticipation and nervous excitement. The hard length of him throbbed against your core, every twitch synchronized with the rapid beat of his heart. The tip was warm, slick with your shared desire, a physical manifestation of the connection drawing you both closer. 

Your heart raced, not with fear, but with happiness—a profound joy that your first time sharing this sacred act would be with him. This was no mere moment of passion; it was something deeper, something eternal. An act of unity, of bonding, of love. Wasn’t it? You wondered, heart fluttering, if this meant he saw you as his equal, his soulmate. 

Did he love you? 

Lucifer’s voice broke the silence, hoarse and laden with conflict. “We should stop,” he murmured, his words catching as though they pained him to say. “I’m tainted… and you’re not. We should stop.” 

Yet even as he spoke, his arms clung to you with a desperation that belied his words. He held you as though you were his salvation, the one thing anchoring him in a world of chaos. His resolve was crumbling, his need laid bare before you. 

And you… you could not let him go. 

Not now.

Not ever.

Lucifer's voice was raw, tinged with a pain that gripped your heart. Though you couldn’t fully understand the depths of his torment, the need to soothe him overwhelmed you. Your fingers trailed tenderly through his golden hair, soft and warm under your touch. His muscles, taut with tension, gradually loosened, melting as he surrendered to your embrace. A sigh escaped his lips, quiet and vulnerable, followed by a low moan as his mouth pressed delicate, lingering kisses to your neck. Each touch sent shivers coursing through your body, his lips igniting sparks wherever they met your skin. 

It hit you then—why you returned to him, year after year, unable to stay away. This feeling, which had begun as a fragile seed, had blossomed into something wild and untamable. It was no longer just admiration or fondness—it was something much deeper. 

You loved him. 

The realization unfurled within you like a sunrise, pure and all-encompassing. Love, the most beautiful and sacred of emotions, a gift from the heavens themselves. It was love that had drawn you to Lucifer, time and again. Love that refused to let you abandon him, even in his fall. He had taught you about creation, about beauty, and now, he had taught you the most profound truth of all—the overwhelming power of love. 

Emboldened by the thought, you cupped his face, tilting his head upward. Your lips found his in small, feather-light kisses, each accompanied by a soft giggle of uncontainable joy. His torment, etched so deeply into his features, began to fade, replaced by a quiet resignation. His lips curled into a gentle smile, one that reached his eyes for the first time in eons. 

Then he kissed you again, deeply, a kiss that stole the air from your lungs and set your body alight. His tongue teased the seam of your lips, coaxing them apart, and you let him in, surrendering to the heat of his passion. His moan vibrated through you, a sound so primal and raw it sent a shiver down your spine. 

His body pressed against yours, his arousal hot and throbbing against your core. The tip of him pressed gently, insistently, against your entrance, the weight of his desire palpable. You widened your thighs instinctively, your breath hitching as anticipation gripped you. 

"I'll be gentle," he whispered, his voice a low promise that resonated through every fibre of your being. 

You nodded, your trust in him absolute, your heart pounding with a mix of trepidation and excitement. Slowly, he began to press into you, the sensation foreign yet electrifying. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he stretched you, your body adjusting to the slow, deliberate intrusion. 

“Ah,” you moaned, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as he rolled his hips, pulling back before pressing forward again. Each thrust brought him deeper, filling you inch by inch. The rhythm was deliberate, reverent, as though he sought to worship every part of you. The sounds of your bodies meeting—the wet, slick noise of his movements, the ragged breaths, the whispered gasps—filled the air, a melody of intimacy. 

"That's right," he murmured, his voice thick with praise and desire. "You're doing so well, my sweet angel." 

Lucifer groaned as he buried himself deeper, his brows knitting together in concentration. You felt the burn of his entry give way to a blossoming pleasure, waves of heat radiating from where your bodies were joined. 

“Ah, my angel,” he groaned, his voice trembling. “So tight... so perfect.” 

He thrust deeper still, his pace steady and unrelenting. The fullness was overwhelming, every nerve alight with sensation. His hand slid around your back, fingers finding the base of your wings. When he touched you there, a jolt of pleasure shot through you, your walls tightening around him involuntarily. 

The sensation built and built, pain dissolving into pure, unadulterated bliss as he moved within you. Each roll of his hips brought you closer to something transcendent, a feeling so overwhelming it consumed you completely. And at that moment, with Lucifer holding you, filling you, there was no fall, no sin—only love.

Lucifer’s moan was low and guttural as he sank fully into you, his hips pressing flush against yours. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of heat and fullness that left your body trembling as it tried to accommodate him. 

“Ah… ah… L-Luci,” you whimpered, your voice catching on every gasp as you clenched tightly around him. Your walls fluttered, struggling to adjust to his size, the stretch both foreign and intoxicating. Above you, Lucifer’s torso rose, his head tilted back as he groaned, savouring the tightness of your untouched core. 

“I’m going to move,” he murmured, his voice soft and trembling, laced with restraint. His hand cradled your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear you hadn’t realized had slipped free. The tenderness in his gaze made your chest ache, grounding you amidst the swirling chaos of sensation. “Tell me if it’s too much, alright?” 

You nodded, your smile wobbly but trusting. 

Slowly, he began to withdraw, and a sharp whimper escaped your lips as the loss of him left you achingly empty. But then, he pressed forward again, filling you completely, his heat and presence igniting something raw within you. His movements were careful, deliberate, as he set a rhythm, his cock throbbing against your walls as if revelling in your embrace. 

Each glide of him inside you was smoother, more certain, and his pace gradually quickened. Your breaths intertwined, the quiet space filled with the sounds of your union—ragged gasps, soft moans, and the rhythmic sound of your bodies meeting. 

“You’re so beautiful, my sweet angel,” he whispered, his voice a reverent murmur that made your heart flutter. His hips rolled in slow, indulgent circles, eliciting a cry of pleasure as he drove deeper into you. “You feel incredible,” he sighed, his words like a balm to your overwhelmed senses. 

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a fervent kiss. His tongue explored you with unrestrained hunger, mapping every corner of your mouth and drawing out muffled moans with every stroke. His lips left trails of fire on your skin, igniting every nerve he touched. 

“I’m close,” he rasped against your lips, his thrusts becoming erratic, his control fraying as he chased his release. 

You could barely form words, your body spiralling higher with every movement. “I want you to… feel good… Luci,” you managed, your voice breaking on a high-pitched keen as the coil in your core wound tighter and tighter, ready to snap. 

Your whispered plea undid him. With a final thrust, his body tensed, and a deep groan escaped him as he spilled into you. The warmth of his release filled you, each pulse of him deep within making you shudder. He moaned softly, his hips rocking gently as he pressed as far as he could, emptying every drop into you. 

As he stilled, his breaths uneven, he opened his eyes to meet yours. Slowly, carefully, he withdrew, and a shiver ran through you as his warmth began to escape. But before you could mourn the loss, his fingers slid inside, filling you once more. 

“Ah!” you cried out, your back arching as the sudden intrusion sent a jolt of pleasure through you. His fingers curled, seeking and finding a spot deep within that made your vision blur. Your thighs trembled uncontrollably, your body surrendering completely to the unexpected waves of ecstasy crashing over you. 

“Good,” Lucifer murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he watched you unravel beneath him, your pleasure becoming his own reward. 

"That's right, let go, my dear," Lucifer murmured, his voice a velvet caress against your senses. The wet, lewd sounds of his fingers delving into your heat filled the space between you, the mixture of his release and your arousal slicking every motion. His fingers curled inside you, finding that spot that made you see stars, and your body clenched around him, desperate for more. 

“Ah… ah, Luci!” you cried, your voice trembling with raw need as the coil in your core wound tighter, ready to snap. The tension in your body built with every stroke of his fingers, every graze of his touch, until a sudden, warm pressure pressed against your sensitive nub. The contact sent a jolt of pure, searing pleasure through you, pulling a broken cry from your lips. 

Lucifer’s lips found your clit, his tongue flicking against the swollen bundle of nerves before he drew it into his mouth, suckling gently. The sensation was electric, each stroke of his fingers inside you timed perfectly with the pull of his lips. The sound of him—wet, desperate, and unrelenting—filled your ears, and the world around you blurred into nothing but him. 

Your body arched off the blanket, a keening moan escaping you as your hips pushed forward, seeking more. You were helpless against the onslaught of sensations, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to drive you higher and higher until you shattered completely. 

White-hot pleasure surged through you, a blinding wave of ecstasy that left you breathless. Your walls clamped around his fingers, spasming with the force of your orgasm as your cries filled the air. Lucifer didn’t stop—his fingers moved slowly, deliberately, while his tongue lavished your oversensitive clit with gentle, teasing licks, drawing out every last tremor of bliss. 

When the pleasure finally ebbed, leaving you trembling and spent, you collapsed back onto the blanket, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Your cheeks flushed, your lips parted in a dazed smile as you looked down at him. 

Lucifer raised his head, his lips glistening, and a small smile graced his face. But something in his eyes gave you pause—a shadow of sadness that dulled the light you adored. His gaze lingered on you, tender yet heavy, as though he was holding back something you couldn’t see. 

You reached for him, brushing your fingers along his cheek, your smile faltering as you whispered, “Luci… what’s wrong?” 

Lucifer gathered you close, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that belied his strength. His fingers threaded through your hair, stroking it gently, while his lips pressed soft, reverent kisses to your temple, your forehead, the crown of your head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, the weight of those words sinking deep into your chest. 

Your eyelids fluttered, the haze of exhaustion clouding your mind. “What for?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You nestled against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, relishing in the warmth that seeped into your skin. 

“For not being enough,” he began, his lips brushing against your hair. “For falling,” another kiss, this time on your temple. “For leaving you,” his voice cracked, and he kissed you again, a lingering touch on your cheek. “For disappointing everyone.” His lips trembled as they grazed your forehead once more. “For…” 

The words faltered, and you tilted your head, looking up at him. The pain etched into his features pierced your heart, but you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Did you know?” you began softly, the words coming from a place of vulnerability. “I look forward to seeing you every year. I look forward to hearing the stories about your daughter, to just… being with you.” 

To you. 

He was enough. 

Always. 

His arms tightened around you, his body trembling slightly as though your words unravelled something deep within him. You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of what you wanted to say, the unspoken truth that had been blooming in your heart. “I… I—” 

But the words caught in your throat, your courage faltering. Did he feel the same? Angels didn’t share this kind of intimacy lightly; it was an act of deep love, wasn’t it? Surely, Lucifer felt it too. 

He leaned back slightly, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. “We should rest tonight, my sweet angel,” he said gently, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. 

You hesitated but nodded, allowing him to conjure a tent with a wave of his hand. The interior was illuminated by strings of delicate fairy lights, their warm glow casting a soft, ethereal ambience. 

“It’s like our own personal stars!” you exclaimed, the childlike wonder in your voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere. 

But Lucifer said nothing, his silence wrapping around the space between you like a fragile thread. You told yourself he was tired, that the weight of the day had worn him down. Still, a small, nagging fear nestled in your chest. 

However, later in the dead of night, you stirred faintly when you felt a hand resting lightly on your head. You kept your eyes shut, your breathing steady as you waited, your heart pounding. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his voice cracking as though the words themselves were too heavy to bear. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, like a prayer seeking forgiveness. “You belong in Heaven, with the stars, not entangled with a devil like me.” 

Your breath hitched, but you remained still, every fibre of your being straining to hear more. You wanted to open your eyes, to reach out and tell him he was wrong, that you didn’t care, but something held you back. Deep down, you already knew, didn’t you? 

You were the one who clung to hope, who had dared to declare love where it was forbidden. You were the one who dreamed of a union that defied the heavens and the depths. And yet, now, all you could do was lie there, caught between the truth you feared and the love you couldn’t bear to lose. 

You closed your eyes, sealing them shut like you had sealed away every truth you didn’t want to face. The truth that Lucifer had fallen, that his place was no longer beside you, and that a future together was a dream as fleeting as stardust. You closed your eyes against the inevitable, against the knowledge that this fragile connection had always been temporary. 

You closed your eyes because as an angel, hope was all you had—and even that, you realized now, had been a fool's solace. 

Tears threatened but did not fall, held at bay by sheer will as you lay there, motionless. You heard the soft rustle of the tent flaps, the faint sound of him leaving, and then the crushing silence as his presence disappeared. The space he left behind felt cavernous, the absence of his warmth like an icy void. 

You didn’t know how long you remained there, curled beneath the blanket that still faintly carried his scent. The false stars above twinkled on, uncaring, mocking. Slowly, you sat up, the first tear slipping down your cheek like a crack in the dam. Then another, and another, until the flood of grief began to escape in earnest. 

You crawled out of the tent, the night’s chill biting at your skin as you wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself. The fire outside had dimmed to embers, its light no longer warm, its joy snuffed out. On the plate lay the discarded remains of s’mores, cold and abandoned, their sweetness wasted. 

You turned your gaze to the sky, to the real stars. Another tear slipped down as you stared at their brilliance. 

You weren’t going to see Lucifer next year. 

Or the year after. 

You weren’t going to see him ever again. He wouldn’t meet you, wouldn’t look at you with that half-smile that never quite reached his eyes. The realization cuts you deep like a blade, sharp and unforgiving. 

More tears welled, spilling freely now as your throat tightened and your chest heaved. The stars blurred in your vision, but you kept looking, unable to tear your gaze away. They shone so brightly, their light a lingering echo of something long gone. A memory of existence clinging to the present, deceiving the dreamers and the hopeful into believing they were still there. 

A breath escaped you, shaky and shallow, followed by a sob that tore free like a scream trapped too long. 

Lucifer had been your mentor. He had shown you the wonder of creation, the beauty of ingenuity, the power of unrestrained possibility. 

But love? 

Perhaps he hadn’t taught you that after all. 

How could it have been love when you never truly had it to begin with? 

Your hands clutched the blanket tighter, your tears falling silently into the earth beneath you. The stars above continued their eternal dance, indifferent to your pain, as you sat there mourning the light you had lost—and the darkness it left behind. 

Please follow #DRP Smutmas 2024 to get all the latest updates of our stories!

Wanna hang out with me? Come talk to me at Voxtek Server!

[astralis-ortus]

it feels impossible (it's not impossible)

✱ bestfriend!bc × gn!reader

— 'cause you are the one i was meant to find.

w.count → 2k genre → romcom, fluff warnings → minor cussing (as per usual, heh), chan refered to as chris a.n → i'm usually not the type to write this long simply because i'm easily distracted and have the tendency to abandon projects, but hey! this one prevails :] hopefully next time i can write even longer fics<3 ⋆ see masterlist

honestly, you thought you were going crazy when the same melody restarted on chris’ speaker for the nth time today. it’s not that the song is bad—you do actually love ‘rewrite the stars’. you’re a fan of the movie, much like chris is, but putting the song on loop? for hours a day? for weeks? your sense of fanship isn’t that strong, especially when the song’s been out in circulation for years now.

“you wanna hear a theory?”

your question easily turns chris’ focus away from the endless papers he had to grade by the end of the day and towards you, raising an eyebrow to the sudden break of silence. his eyes visibly twinkled, contemplating if he should entertain the idea of putting on his regular-26-year-old suit over the professional-high-school-teacher ones he’d been in for the past couple hours or so.

well, to be fair, chris hasn't even been focusing on the pages of essays he needed to check. not when his mind has been preoccupied with something—someone­—else.

“shoot,” he eventually replied with a lopsided smile etched on his lips—head cocked to the side when he finally decided to shut the screen of his decorated silver laptop, offering you his entire attention. “it better be funny or entertaining, considering i’m risking losing my hearing to my kids’ complaints for not returning their papers on time tomorrow.”

“oooh, pressure,” you mocked, a wide grin appearing on your face while you try to ignore the rush of tingles under your skin when you noticed the way chris referred to his students as ‘my kids’—something he’d always done and so do you, but somehow had a different effect on you as of recent. “believe me, it’s something fun,” you hummed with a shrug, mirroring chris as you set your laptop aside.

chris’ pair of charming dimples came into view upon your confident reply, fully immersed in the stage you’re setting up. fabric of his gray couch, one where you two had been slowly melting into for a few hours now, gently rustled when chris fixed his posture, less from lazing around and more into focusing on you and whatever nonsense he believed you were going to say. the glint in his eyes grew brighter by the second, both from anticipation and excitement.

“tell me.”

it felt like spring—when the flowers were in bloom, the breeze was blowing ever-so-gently against your warm cheeks, and the swarm of butterflies were surrounding you with its pairs of fluttering wings.

chris made you feel like spring.

“gee, tone down the excitement, mr. bahng,” you inadvertently shifted away, silently praying to whatever force ruling the universe that chris wasn’t aware of the way your heartbeat spiked to his playful grin. “don’t want to disappoint you there.”

”as if you could ever,” chris promptly refuted with a chuckle, chin resting on the palm of his hand. the way his playful gaze was directed right at you, framed by those loose curls of his, proved to cause your heart more problems than ease. “the ever-so-perfect you? a disappointment? really?”

”oh shut up,” you groaned, half wanting to wipe the cocky smirk off his face—or…?

”but then—if you say so, do tell me,” frown on your forehead instantly dissipates, replaced by a mirror of his lopsided grin when you figured you could turn the bullet right back at its owner,

“am i perfectly on point when i say you’re in love?”

despite the slight pang on your heart, you couldn’t help but giggle at the way his face fades into surprise, a shade of blush slowly creeping on the top of his cheekbones.

the topic of love was never really something you discussed with chris. sure, you two met each other in college where hormones were bursting through the roof, but neither you or chris was interested in dating anyone—you with your slowly budding crush on chris, and chris with… god-knows-what he’s interested in. you never pried, for the sake of not making things awkward. that's your norm, and how you’ve spent your last 7 years with chris.

you and chris remained friends, which at some point evolved into best friends (you now, by the hey-i’m-bored-at-2am-let’s-hang kind of standard), and somehow, you two happened to land a teaching job within the same district around the same time. chris went to teach a reputable high school in the area, while you pursue your dream of teaching kids. you hang out at each other’s place every other day, despite the time you spent together consists mostly of being nose-deep in your respective workload.

the topic of love still was something foreign—you wouldn’t deliberately bring it up other than around the occasions when wedding invites stopped by yours or chris’ doorstep.

maybe, it’s time to change that.

”…huh?”

chris is thoroughly perplexed.

”oh come on, don’t even try to lie,” with a smile decorated with victory, you finally teased the man across. “it’s all written on your face, you know,” you continued, fingers gesturing to your own, “but also, your choice of song. god, do you even listen to anything else when you're in love?”

“but i'm not!” he yelped, facepalming himself upon realizing the shift in his tone is a dead giveaway of his true voice. “god—no. i'm not,” he added meekly, shaking his head, “you know i love the song. that's all.”

”fair enough,” acknowledging his plea, you briefly nod, “but that doesn’t justify the way you’ve been keeping the song on repeat! and don’t you think i don’t remember the few other occurrences when you did the same, because i knew for a fact that something happened every time you became distant after going through this rewrite the stars cycle!”

if his face were flushed before, then you’d categorize this new shade apparent on the tip of his ear as a what-the-fuck-i’m-screwed kind of blush and frankly, seeing this new side of him kind of made you regret not bringing the topic up sooner.

”you remembered?” his voice sounded more of a squeak rather than a proper question, still hiding behind the safety of his palms. “no you don’t! that was ages ago!”

”so things did happen!” your grin turned into a laugh, drowning chris’ groan and series of disapproving no when he realized he just bit into your colorful, glimmering bait. “gosh—why didn’t you tell me you were dating someone? i was kinda hurt whenever that happened you know,” you purse your lips dramatically, “i lost a friend to talk to and never exactly know the reason why until today.”

“oh,” chris blinked, finally looking right at you with a puzzled gaze, “you… were? i mean—i’m sorry i hurt you. for the record, i wasn’t dating anyone. i just kinda assumed, you know, since you were dating someone else anyway i thought—“

”hold up—“ both statements rolling off of chris’ lips inadvertently made you hold up a hand, stopping the latter on his tracks. ”what?”

now both of you are puzzled.

you? dating someone?

”i just wanted to give you space,” chris reiterated, hand now awkwardly resting on his equally red nape, “figured you’d want that since me being around will likely bring trouble for you and the person you were dating.”

”but�� i haven’t dated anyone since we became friends?”

you’re thoroughly confused.

”wait, what?” chris shook his head in disbelief, “what do you mean you haven’t dated anyone? what about the notes? and the flowers? and the chocolates too! what do you—what do you mean?”

nevermind, now you’re thoroughly confused.

”the ones from back in college?” your memories were not exactly as clear as you expected it to be, but you do remember receiving those gifts a few times due to its absurdity. “that was all from the rich ass kid i tutored! the one who i told you kept teasing me about never receiving any valentine's day gift? that kid? they sent me those gifts as a prank!”

“…what?”

the amount of ‘what’ you two have said in the past few exchanges is ridiculous.

”god—you thought i’ve been dating and never told you?” you finally pieced the puzzle together, incredulous. “and that’s why you distanced yourself? dude, are you serious?”

”well i just assumed!” chris raised his hands in defense, equally as incredulous as you are, “to be fair, those are usually gifts you get for someone you like! how am i supposed to know it’s from the kid you tutored? you never tried to told me!”

”you could’ve asked?” you stated, as-a-matter-of-factly. sometimes, despite that brilliant brain of his, chris could be quite the foolish one between the two of you. “besides, i thought you knew! you literally read the cards!”

”wha—how do you expect me to digest any of that when i was under the assumption someone i like is dating someone else!”

silence befalls chris’ usually cozy living room, leaving the soft resounding melody that hadn’t stopped as the only sound filling up the space. you’re not even sure if your ears were actually catching the right words falling from his lips; it felt too much like a fever dream. judging from the way his eyes turned wide, however,

you might have heard him correctly.

”you… like me?”

you never imagined you’d piece those words together, much less directing them towards chris. hell, even by remaining as friends was enough for you—having him to yourself was not something you thought would ever happen in this lifetime. you’re happy as you were; you’re content with being friends.

chris, on the other hand, is still visibly trying to digest the events that just unfolded around him. from the misunderstanding to unintentionally confessing his feelings, this was not how he expected his Sunday evening to be. all he wanted to do was be near the one person he’d been secretly nurturing his feelings for, praying that maybe one day he’d finally muster up the courage before everything was too late—but this was not how he expected things to turn out.

”i’m sorry,” he finally croaked, breaking the suffocating silence whilst also being too embarrassed to even look you in the eye, “i know it’s weird—from the misunderstanding to, you know, what i said. i never intended for you to find out about it this way. i understand that you don’t feel the same way, it’s okay, you—“

”oh shut up,” you capped his ramblings short, catching chris off guard. it’s not often you cut him off when he speak, so when you do, he knew you meant it.

“just, what?” you sighed, fingers begin massaging the throb on your temple. it’s hard to decipher what you’re currently feeling as a whole, but one thing you know for sure— you’re especially bothered by his last statement.

“chris, how would you even know what i feel if you’ve never even asked me?”

you watched through his pair of curious eyes as thoughts ran inside his mind, slowly deciphering what you meant with the sudden calmness in your voice.

“uh,” finally managing the train of assumptions in his head, chris then looked at you—only now, with a glimmer of hope reflected in his eyes, “do you... like me? like, more than just friends?”

and to that, you finally nodded.

“yeah, you dumbass. for the longest time.”

watching the way chris’ smile bloom easily turned you into another smiling mess—not missing the giggles nor the flush on your cheeks and all. It feels dumb, realizing that you’ve been into each other for forever but never realizing it because of some stupid misunderstanding.

“and i like you too,” chris reiterated, his goofy smile erasing any trace of worry that was present on his face just a second ago. honest to god—you thought you were falling in love all over again for chris.

“in that case...” he shrugged before outstretching a hand, trying his best to play things cool despite the growing excitement in his eyes,

“will you officially be my partner in crime?”

sound of your laugh only fuels the warmth spreading within chris’ heart—and it felt like the way he spent all those countless nights, wishing that one day the stars would eventually align for him finally paid off as you held his hand in yours, smiling brighter than any stars ever discovered.

“gladly.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[revelboo]

PLEASE MORE OF THE SEEKERS 🙏🙏🙏 either the trine or any of their individual stories please, your writing is so good. You're the first author I've ever set notification on for, you're literally the best ❤️

True Romance Pt 3

Seeker Trine x Reader

• Primus, he can hear you moving around again on his berth. About to turn his head, Starscream freezes when you move closer and curl against his arm, shivering. Cold? Annoyed, he lifts his arm and you gasp, trying to scramble away in the dark before he’s scooping you up and laying you on his chassis so you’ll be still, pressing his servos down against your spine to make you lay down flat. Venting tiredly when you finally stop trembling against him and relax, little nuisance. Warm and soft on his chassis, little heart racing.

• One of his big servos slides almost absently between your shoulder blades as you’re pinned to him. But he’s warm, shockingly so. The tension and anxiety melting out of you as you lay there, feeling a faint humming under you. Knowing you shouldn’t be able to relax, that you need to be plotting your escape, but you find yourself nodding off to the feel of that servo petting your back. Feeling safe despite yourself.

• Wings flaring lazily, Thundercracker lifts his head. Can hear Skywarp stirring and reluctantly rolls off of his berth to get ready for patrol. It’s the little sound from the human that draws his attention. Leaning over Starscream’s berth, he reaches for the little form sprawled on his brother’s chassis. Tips of his servo brushing your softness as he starts to lift you and then Star’s hand is on his arm. One optic squinting up at him, before letting go to allow him to scoop you up. You make an adorably sleepy sound, cheek laying on his servo as he gently taps against you to wake you up. Aware of Star sitting up, watching him. “Come on, little one.”

• Yawning as the blue one, Thundercracker, cups you to his warm chassis and wanders around the space the three share, you sleepily watch the other two getting out of their berths. “How often do you think humans eat?” Thundercracker asks and that at least breaks through your sleepiness. A faint hint of worry filling you at that question. Knowing you need to speak up, but your voice failing you when Skywarp glances at you.

• “It’s little, can’t eat much,” Skywarp mutters, stalking past and barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch the softness of your hair. Remembering how warm you felt in his servos, the feel of your heart beating against him. Wide eyes turn his way, looking up at him with uncanny intelligence. “Think it might try to get off the berth if we leave it?” And likely break its delicate little bones or neck. That thought twists about his spark unpleasantly.

• Hesitating to glance at you in Thundercracker’s hand, Starscream can’t deny the possibility. In your place, he’d try to escape. If you do get loose and into the halls, other Decepticons will find you. Likely crush you for fun. “Here,” he murmurs reaching out his cupped hands and staring Thundercracker down until his brother vents and hands you over. Opening a drawer on their desk, he lowers you inside, servos lingering as you cling to him, alarm on your face. Your little frightened ‘wait,’ making him stroke your arm. The drawer is at least deep enough you can’t climb out. Not easily anyway. “Give me the blankets,” he says, reaching as Skywarp hands them over and he arranges them into a nest for you. “If you try to climb out, little one, I’ll be very displeased,” he warns, using the tip of his servo to tilt your little face up to meet his optics. Needing to be sure you understand he’s serious.

Previous

Next

[lilac-5ky]

always darkest before the dawn (Satoru x Fem!Reader)

plot: your boyfriend finds you waiting on his porch after a mission you warned him against going.

tags: hurt/comfort with a silly ending cause I'm silly for this man.

wc: 2.4k

“Baby? What are you still doing up?”

The sound of his voice gets amplified with every step he takes toward the dim-lit engawa, a pleasant break from the incessant chirping of the cicadas slowly being traded for that of the first morning sparrows—midnight sky melting into the lightest shades of blue. Stars are sprinkled over the velvet canopy like powder sugar, a subtle bronze haze dividing the horizon from the heavens above, and you almost thank them for sending their most exalted angel your way.

He comes alive again—wings heavy from the blood that soaks them, its source hardly human.

The knitted blanket slides off your shoulders as you turn around to face Satoru, his otherwise sublime features wearier and more haggard than you remember seeing them this morning by your pillow. He carries a bag in each hand, his apology wrapped in layers upon layers of aluminum foil. You wonder what it tastes like. Last time was gyoza, and the time before that drunken noodles—always accompanied by some sort of dessert from some faraway corner of the map, which he (typically) promises to revisit with you.

“Welcome home.” You sigh, mustering a smile to distract him from the dried-up tears that stain the apples of your cheeks.

It was a long night, and his absence stretched it to eternity. You realized after he left for his mission that forever is a long time to be spent alone, especially when the last words you said to him echo harder than the cumbersome footsteps of his departure, scaring you into thinking that was the last you heard of each other.

No one ever told you that being with the strongest meant becoming stronger yourself.

It’s not fair.

He doesn’t miss the opportunity to call you weak, making a habit of teasing you when your puny arms fail to carry his excessive haul of grocery bags or when you can’t open a mere jar of jam without him loosening the cap beforehand. He doesn’t admit you are stronger than him, despite you being the one to carry his burden and your worries, the two brewing into a sickly cocktail of premonition you can barely stomach—one that initiated today’s fallout.

You feel wronged. Your roles were reversed against your will; the comfort of being the weak one viciously yanked from your grasp, feet forcefully put into a pair of shoes you were never meant to wear. You should be weak. He should be strong. You should be crying, and he should be comforting. You should be able to tell him, don’t go, and he should be able to stay.

But you didn’t. And he did not.

Unaffected by the war of contradictory motions in your head, Satoru plops down beside you, large palms emptying of the cheap plastic handles to fill up with you. The thrill of the fight still hasn’t worn out, muscles taut from the action, and eyes bright under their concealment. He feels warm, warmer than the blanket that’s now receded to your thighs, though not warm enough to appease the cold in your heart, goosebumps prickling your skin from the inside out like your body is trying to escape itself.

A lump forms in your throat from where his lips touch your neck, briefly and fleetingly, before they are replaced with the familiar fluff of hair. It’s ironic how he tries to fit in you. There isn’t a part of you that hasn’t been touched by him in one way or another, and if you could pull out your own guts to make more space for him, then you would. You’d let him consume you whole if that meant never spending a second without him.

You wonder if that’s how love is supposed to be. You aren’t sure. You don’t know if you’re just another person who foolishly let themselves worship Gojo Satoru—if, in your effort to get to know the real him, you became his biggest fan.

“You are abnormally quiet.” You point out, instantly hating how ragged your voice sounds. The only dissonance in the picturesque garden of his estate.

Satoru shifts in his position, heavy jaw rubbing sweetly against your bare shoulder, hot breath fanning your neck. “I’m just mimicking you.”

“Mimicking me?” A bit better this time.

“Mhm.”

You glance at him, following the curve of his nose down to the dip of his cupid’s bow, both highlighted under the waning moonlight. Even when the stars are slowly drained and those flattering shadows dispelled, his beauty remains a certain constant. He is so beautiful that your heart aches, a longing sigh caught at the far back of your palate, his soft smile begging for its release.

He won’t hear you say it. Not tonight.

You test out the waters with a teasing poke of your tongue. He does the same, mouths almost touching with how closely he leans forward. Then a pout. A scrunch of the nose. An unserious wiggle of his eyebrows that mirrors your own—an image far more perfect than the one you’re used to seeing in the mirror.

“Would you jump down a cliff if I did?” You taunt.

“Absolutely!” He breaks the loop, answering in less than a heartbeat. “You know I would. The world would be a horrible place without my sugarplum.”

“You know, you could save us both if you wanted.” You say with a level voice.

“The greatest love stories are sealed by tragedy.” Satoru argues back. “Romeo and Juliette. Jack and Rose. Orihime and Hikoboshi. Takeru and Hikari.”

You are quick to spot the odd one out. “First of all, stop sneaking in Digimon references thinking I won’t notice, and second of all, Takeru and Hikari didn’t die.”

“No, but they never got together.” He frowns.

You roll your eyes. “You are unbelievable.”

“And you’re soooo pretty. Did you do something to your face? Your dark circles look extra dark tonight.” Satoru tries to catch your cheek in his palm, fine sand slipping through his fingers as you pull away.

“Shut up!” Your mixed chuckles course through your body, reigning over the tremors that previously had you shriveling into a ball of tightly packed limps. Staying mad at him is impossible when he’s actually there; all mood for poignancy gone in an instant.

“You never answered my question.” A featherlight hum brushes against the shell of your ear, the pout easy on his tone. “What are you still doing up?”

With a knowing smile, you peer at the sky, feeling the press of his cheek on yours as he follows the movement of your eyes. “Whenever I miss you, the only thing that calms me is looking at the sky.”

“You know I’m not dead, right?”

“Say one more stupid thing, and that will change!” You warn with your pointer up. He kisses it. God.

You tap your finger against his forehead, urging some distance be put between the two of you. “Whenever I look at the sky,” you start again, “I see you.”

Breaking from his embrace, you shape two circles with your thumbs and forefingers, narrowing their size until they turn into a pair of minuscule goggles you lower over to where his eyes supposedly lie behind the blindfold. “See? Just like your eyes.”

“Oh, I’m not too sure about that.” Satoru gazes at the sky through your fingers, eventually tipping in your direction. He smirks, “I mean, the eyes of the Gojo Satoru are kinda hard to beat. See?”

Peeling the blindfold off, he lets your palms spread over his cheeks, azure eyes losing their vibrancy as your dainty fingers frame them better than any pair of sunglasses in his collection. He’s right. The original cannot compare. It’s not Satoru’s eyes that resemble the sky. It’s the sky that resembles his eyes, for in his 28 years, he’s managed to make something as ancient as time itself seem like a cheap rip-off.

“But I am flattered.” Warm palms cushion yours as he brings them to his mouth. You don’t realize how frigid they are until he starts blowing the cold away, smiling against them. “Means I’m always on your mind with how often your head’s in the clouds.”

“Can’t go one minute without bringing me down, huh?” Your voice frail once more.

“I can. But where’s the fun in that?”

You pull each other into a gentle kiss, Satoru’s arms snaking around your waist while your fingers cup his cheeks with urgency, fearing that by the time your eyes blink open, he’ll already have faded into stardust. He doesn’t share your concern, soft pecks interrupted by muffled chuckles, the taste on his lips giving you an idea of what he brought home with him.

“Pancakes?” Your tongue drags against his bottom lip. Foreheads pressed against one another.

“Mhm. Figured you’d be hungry for breakfast at this ungodly hour.” Satoru pecks your lips again and again, making it impossible to think straight, let alone answer, given how often your mouths are smashed together.

“How did you know I’d be up?” You breathe out.

“Hmm, a premonition?” He grins, playing with fire with how he mocks your previous words of concern. “My six eyes—”

“Do your six eyes tell you that you’ll be smacked in three, two, one!”

Limitless activates before your forehead can ram into his skull, the number of times you bob your head futile.

“One of these days, my anger will outdo your technique.” You promise.

“Can’t wait for that!” Satoru beams earnestly. “Maybe then I can teach you about domains too. Make my baby into the best—well, second-best sorcerer.”

Truly impossible.

The world quiets down as the final veil of the night is lifted from the sky and dawn begins its dance, everything it touches slowly coming into life. Light seeps between the yellowing grass blades, illuminating the morning dew that rests upon them. Water sparkles as it pours from the bamboo fountain, the constant thump setting the tempo for the birds’ song. Fragrance is drawn out of the towering pine trees, grounding the elegance of the showy blue hydrangeas. No room for despair in this imagery of hope, complete with Satoru’s presence, white lashes fluttering shut as he stretches like a cat in the sun.

You love him.

You know you do. You mean it every morning and every night when he makes you say it in between chuckles, slender fingers tickling the admission out of your ribs. You mean it when he moves heaven and earth to fulfill a stupid promise you made at 4 AM when you were drunk out of your mind and he tucked you into the comfort of your shared bed—somehow less sober without a drop of alcohol in his system.

You mean it when there’s sand in his eyes, when his breath doesn’t smell as peachy as one would expect of someone as ridiculously perfect as him, when his voice cracks during a sing-along. You mean it when his tongue licks the luscious coffee cream from your lips and when it greedily laps between the puffy lips down under.

There is so much you love about him that you’d run out of synonyms for words before you could jot them all down in a way that’s not dull to read, and still, you’d lose out on describing how exactly he makes you feel.

Because Satoru isn’t a person, so much as he is art. Sometimes he is just splash of colors across a canvas without the masterful strokes needed to hone him into a finished product. Other times, he is just the notes composing the wonderful lilt of his voice, too audacious to be deemed a symphony. He can be poetry too, spilling out of the ordinary 17-syllable arrangement of a haiku. But most of all, he is raw energy, an untamed torrent ripping through mountains and a whirlwind sweeping everything in its path.

It’s hard not to romanticize him in moments like this. They don’t come too often.

“You know, you don’t need tragedy to write a good love story.” Your tendency to break the silence festers into a bad habit. “We might be doomed by the narrative, but we are here to live. I’d rather live with you than die with you, or live a life without you.” You whisper, voice getting caught in your throat.

Sincerity always scared you, but if there’s one thing more regrettable than words you’ve said, then that’d be words that were never told.

Your focus shifts to your dangling feet, grass grazing your toes at the completion of each nervous sway. You are no longer touching. Not purposely at least, contact reduced to the slight nudge of your shoulders as Satoru leans against his to smile.

“Gotcha.” He says, not quite pressuring you to face him just yet. “It was easy-peasy, by the way. Yuji and Nobara did most of the work, while Megumi—he fell inside a curse’s stomach. It was hilarious! You should visit them soon; see how my kids have grown.”

Your lips pucker their way around your mouth, tongue poking at your cheek from the inside—prelude to a slow nod. Too uncertain to be directed at him. You regret bringing this up. You should’ve let yourself bask in his affections when they didn’t require a verbal answer.

“You worry too much.” Your uneasiness prompts Satoru to crane his neck and lay a tender kiss on the crown of your head. His voice serious when he says, “I won’t die.”

“That’s what everyone says right before they die.”

“But I’m not everyone. I’m Gojo Satoru, and I won’t die.”

You gulp, then huff a forced chuckle. ���H-hey, that’s a pretty good catchphrase. You should use it in your fights when you’re about to deal the killing blow.”

“I have a better one. I’m Gojo Satoru, and I love youuuu~” He sings, seconds before his lips attack your neck, deft fingers mercilessly tickling your sides against the hard wood.

“God! You are so corny!” You blurt in between giggles.

“You love it!” He protests, a wild glint to his eyes. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Say it.”

“N-no way!”

“No?” The sadist stops his torture, finding new ways to torment you as he slyly moves toward the forgotten takeout. “Guess I’ll be enjoying these myself then. Thank me for the food!”

“Hey, Satoru! Wait!” You concede.

Maybe it’s fine to let him stand on the podium alone this once.

a/n: my mood is all over the place nowadays, suffering writer's block, wrote this as a self-indulgent 5 AM craze, help satoru brainrot too strong

[xreaderstoryideas]

Let me show you my love

A/N: ok , it's been 3 days and that scenario keep ruing in my mind I have to write it , sorry if it's not that good it's the first time I write something like that 😅

Warnings: 18+, f!reader, fluff to soft smut (smut in betweenthe lemon cut), newly established relationships, lucifer is touch starve, I won't change my mind that man definitely whimpers 👀

Not proof read

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were both sitting in his larger than king-size bed, just talking, and the conversation drifted to how some people show their love language.

" - so our brain can sometimes overload our feelings off cuteness and love , so it turns its into aggressiveness. But since we love it, we don't wanna hurt it." You were explaining to lucifer what cuteness aggression was all about. " So lately, if you saw me fidget, or sigh , it not that I don't wanna be around you." You couldn't look him in the eyes while confessing why you've been a bit 'weird' lately. He's been so good to you, and you didn't want him to think that you couldn't stand him.

" it's just i-i ..... really love you , and ...... I don't want to overwhelmed you "

Lucifer was sitting at your side facing you, listening to your every word. He had noticed how you have been acting different when he was around, fearing you where not happy with him, he finally gathered his courage and asked you about it before going to bed.

When he was about to say something, a movement caught his eyes. You were taping your finger on the back of your other hand , exactly like every other time he noticed. He took his time and looked more closely at you, and he realized, "she's doing right now"

Your eyes lift up when you heard him move, how you found him surprised you a bit. He was now completely facing you, arms open as if inviting you in a hug, " love~ I see your restraining yourself right now, I'm not as fragile as I may look. if that's how you show your love, I'll be honored to receive it"

For a moment, you didn't know what to say. " r-really? You don't mind ......"

He chuckled, shaking his head. " Not at all, now, come here"

You smiled, accepting his hug. Lucifer let out a yelp of surprise when you dragged on your side of the bed , holding him like you would a teddy bear. " Don't blame me for what's coming next."

He didn't have the time to register that he was now laying down on you that you began to pepper his face with kisses. One of your hands, holding the back of his head, while the other was running down his back, in between the indented of where his wings retract. Your touch was so soft and loving that he couldn't help but feel a chills spread all over him, how long since he felt something like that, he couldn't remember.

" I kinda expected his back to be sensitive, but seeing him melt so fast is so adorable," you couldn't help but smile as you still kiss every inch of his face that you could.

Taking a pause in you assault , you hold his head with your hand, founding that lucifer was now putty in your hands, eyes haft-lid starring into space, it was truly adorable, he was truly adorable.

" ~ my darling love , could you please show me your horns, I wanna love every aspect of you~ " you sweetly asked before kissing his lips.

Even though your eyes were close, you could feel lucifer shifting in his full demon form, red horns sprouting on his head, tree pair of wings unfolding from his back, and his tail now lazily swishing around.

Separating from lucifer's lips, you took your time to admire the beautiful fallen angel. You couldn't imagine a more handsome being, and he was yours.

Letting his head rest on your breast, you begin to kiss his horn, starting where it sprouts from his head. Nearing the top of his horn, you continue by kissing the head of his snake halo, before going to his other horn, taking care of minding the flame between them.

At this point, lucifer's wings were all around you. One of your hands was still playing in his hair while the other rested on his back in between his wings and tail. " Are you feeling alright, lucifer?"

Lucifer lifted his eyes to meet yours, only to be faced with so much love and adoration. " Better than ever, y/n , my queen"

🍋----------------------------------------------------🍋

Your hand slowly drifts down his back, meeting the base of his tail, letting out a small moan, lucifer couldn't have help to be riddled up by your show of affection. Feeling the bulge on the inside of your thigh, you felt the need to help your lover with his predicament. All while caressing his tail, you whisper into his ear, " How would you like me to satisfy you , ~my king~"

Feeling himself getting harder at your seductive tone, lucifer wasn't able to stop the whimper that escaped his panting lips. " i-i need ....... you m-my love......."

Gliding your free hand in the sensitive feathers of one of his wings." I'm gonna need you to be more specific, darling~" lucifer buck and let out a loud moan at your action, his briefs becoming painfully tight. " hng.... please, I neeeeed to f-ahhh-feel you around me ..."

Deciding you had teased him enough, you smiled and kissed him, your hands helping lucifer undress the little clothes you both had. The moment your underwear was tossed to the side, lucifer's hand found itself at your heat , thumbs pressing circles on your clit and fingers pumping in and out.

You gasped, giving him the opportunity to let his forked tongue claim your mouth, swallowing every mewl your throat could conjure. His free hand intertwined with your own, finding purchase to balance him.

Feeling that you were worked up enough for him, lucifer drew back his hand. Letting out a whine at the lost his fingers, you try to follow his lips only to see lucifer lick his fingers clean. " mmhhhnnn, my queen , you taste so sweet nothing can compare "

Lucifer lined himself and slowly sheath completely, making both of you moan. " lu-lucifer, ...f-feel so gooood , my angel ...... mine"

When he started to move, beginning with slow thrust, you noticed that his tail was loosely warped around one of your leg, his wings flapped sporadically but still draped the two of you securely. You grip a handful of hair at the back of lucifer head and pull, giving you access to his neck and eliciting a guttural moan out of him. Begging him to move faster, you lather every part of him that you could reach in bites and hickeys, physically marking a claim on the king of hell.

" y/n ... I'm close.. s-sooclose" with his hand that was not interlocked with yours lucifer reached in between the two of you, easily finding you bundle of nerves. Expertly pouting pressure on it, you loudly found the tight knot quickly unraveling, rapidly panting the only thing coming out of your mouth was lucifer's name.

The moment the knot snapped, you could only scream lucifer's name as your walls constricted around him, almost making him finish at the sensation. Lucifer's thrust were getting sloppy, getting closer to his own release, " lucifer, it's ok .... cum for me darling ~" you felt him speed up chasing his high.

You kissed and swallowed his scream as he twitched and spilled inside you. Regaining both of your breath, lucifer's horns and tail receded and his wings retracted.

🍋----------------------------------------------------🍋

Pulling out and laying at your side, lucifer nuzzle himself in the crook of your neck." I love you, my queen, more than anything "

" I love you too, my king, more than anything"

" we should get up and take a bath luci"

"But I don't wanna get up, I'm good right here" he only but nuzzle himself more in your breasts, his arm snaking around you, locking you in place.

"..................... you can bring a couple rubber ducks in the bath if-" you didn't had the time to finish your sentence, lucifer had bolted to the attached bathroom saying it would be ready in less than 5 minutes. You could only lay there chuckling at his excitement.

A/N: fuck 😵‍💫 it took me more than 5h that write all of that. I sometimes had the pause because I was either embarrassed to write a part of I had the think how to phrase it 🙃 😅. Hope you guys like it 😁

[hollowtakami]

THE WORDS YOU GAVE ME

Keigo Takami x GN reader

CONTENT; pure fluff, waking up with my fav birb, pet names (duckie, baby bird, dove), comfort w/ some reverse comfort too.

WORD COUNT; 732

AUTHOR NOTE; im so sorry I’ve been gone so long!! :( life really got in the way and i’ve been unable to write from lack of motivation and stuff. i wrote this little drabble to try and get back into the swing of things, i’m quite proud of it but i’m still a little rusty. i hope you’re all doing well during the run up to the new year! remember to drink water and take care of yourself, you’re so loved <3

Mourning doves cooed out their quiet songs as the sun stretched out into the sky, wrapped in blankets of clouds. Its light slithered under your curtains and ran its warm ray of fingers over your face. You stirred, your face scrunching up as you reluctantly greeted a new day and turned to your side to be met with a comforting, red warmth; the fiery plumage of Keigo’s wings, his primaries spread over the thickness of your duck-feather duvet. You rub your eyes as you feel a hand stroke the hair from your face. Those hands trail down to rub your shoulders, massaging gentle circles of comfort into your skin.

“Morning, dove,” A voice croaks out.

“Good morning,” You reply, opening your heavy eyes to a sleepy Keigo, shirtless with the rising sun highlighting him like a halo through your curtains.

He smiles at the sound of your voice, amber suns pinning as the dark holes of his eyes dilate to twice their size. He stretches his wings out again as he shuffles closer to you, his hand on your shoulder raising to your face again, the pad of his thumb making circles on your cheek.

You feel yourself melt into the warmth of his touch, leaning in slightly. The comfort of the blankets and duvet were one thing, but when Keigo was under them with you, it was like the stars had aligned so perfectly. You knew that if he could, Keigo would align the stars for you, paint a sky full of the stars he knew you loved so much.

“How’d you sleep?” Keigo asked, never taking his eyes off you.

You shrugged, your throat still a little hoarse. You only leaned Keigo’s chest, the heat of his skin setting your cheeks on fire. You couldn’t tell if it was that or the brush of red that bloomed over your face, but Keigo was happy to still have that effect on you, after all this time.

He planted a kiss on the crown of your head, resting his chin. You hummed to yourself happily, half asleep. The two of you laid in comfortable silence for a moment, the sound of each other breathing like a lifeline. Keigo ran his hands through your hair and draped a wing over the two of you like a blanket of red plumage - warm and cosy, with his safe, familiar scent.

Your eyes failed you, growing heavy again. You yawned, face scrunching up. Keigo would always laugh and tell you how cute he thought you were, kiss your nose softly and leave you a melting mess to resume whatever he was doing. This time was no different.

“Still tired, baby bird?” Keigo chirped, cupping your face and pecking your nose with a gentle kiss, smiling to himself as your soft blush only grew in intensity. “You’re so adorable.”

However many times he’d kiss you, it always felt like the first time. There was something about the love Keigo gave you that was so familiar yet so fresh. It set your weary heart at ease, it made everything okay.

You look up at him, your eyes like stars as they refracted the morning light. Keigo felt himself melting, choking back a stray chirp that dared to jump up his throat. His plumage fluffed up slightly, the perking of his primaries ruffling the duvet a little. You cupped his face with one hand, using your free hand to haul yourself upwards slightly as you kissed Keigo's nose, your cheek scratching against his stubble slightly as you sank back down into the sheets.

His eyes pinned, the gold of his irises almost completely taken over by black. He nervously smiled, his face redder than his wings. He was the one who gave affection, he was never one to be good at receiving it. The Commission had almost completely trained that out of him, oiling his heart with apathy instead of love. So, you always made sure to remind Keigo that he was loved, that he was worthy of love; after all, he did the same for you.

“I love you, Kei,” you cooed, beaming.

That repressed chirp regurgitated up from Keigo’s throat, a nervous laugh not far behind. You smiled, tracing his jawline with your thumb. Nicknames were the man’s weakness. Call him Kei, and he’ll melt.

Keigo beamed back, shining like a star.

“I love you too, duckie,”

[sunalee]

⊛ chapter one: daisy

quote: “We’ll always be best friends, okay?” “Okay.”

with: Choi Seungcheol 

warnings: reader and cheol are childhood friends, pure heartwarming.

a/n: first chapter of my new series The Book Of Flowers. Not gonna lie, this one is so precious, just imagining cheol's little chubby cheeks makes my heart melt. If you wish to follow this series and help me choose the next idols, just click on the link above. Enjoy it!

"Do you know why the moon is out during the day too?"

"Why?" he asks, little fingers intertwining between the small leaves beneath him. Autumn is yet to come, the grass green and solid as it savors the remaining humidity of the past rainy days. It was your favorite pastime to spend the afternoon gazing at the clouds above, laid down at Seungcheol's large yard and thinking of nothing but the possible shapes of the sky's moving cottons.

It's good to be seven.

"Because it misses playing with the sun." you answer with a smile, turning your face to the side where you can have a better look of your best friend. He turns his face to look at you as well, your innocent gazes locking with each other.

He hums for a second, your logic making sense in his head. "Then the sun and the moon are best friends. Like us, right?"

"Yes. And the stars are bright at night because they try to comfort the moon since the sun isn't there to shine for it" Your tone gets melancholic, having empathy for the moon's loneliness. You couldn't imagine its sadness, having to live apart from the sun for hours before it rises again. You don't think you could be that strong if something like that happened with you and Seungcheol.

"That's sad." Cheol also feels a tad gloomy, but he tries not to think too much of it, to not spoil the nice moment you were both having. He can't have you feeling down. "But they can meet each other from time to time! I saw it on tv once, it's called an eclipse. I don't think it happens a lot though, but they can still see each other."

"I hope more eclipses happen then. They're best friends, they can't stay apart." You reason, stretching your fingers until they reach Cheol's hand rested between your bodies. He takes that as a cue to hold your entire hand in his, squeezing gently while offering you a comforting smile.

"I promise we won't be like them. Nothing will keep us apart." He vows, meaning every word in his golden heart.

"Not even if your grandma grounds you?"

"Well, I'll try not to make her angry." He scratches the back of his head embarrassed, making you let out a few giggles; his smile gets brighter. "But even then, I'll make sure to not stay away for long. We'll be best friends forever, okay?"

Seungcheol has a way with words that always makes you feel secure. Maybe it's the way he maintains eye contact, letting you reach parts of him that isn't highlighted for anyone; or his sincere tone, so soothing and convincing that could make you believe that fishes have wings without a proof. It's a mixture of perks and small details that you aren't able to explain, but makes you certain that you can always trust in him.

"Okay."

And every time, you don't regret it. 

© sunalee 2024 — all rights reserved.

[emma23]

Grounded in the stars:

Poe dameron x reader

If you want to support me, feel free to check this out 💕:

https://ko-fi.com/settings?tab=profile

————————————————————————

“Poe, you’re insufferable, you know that?”

You tossed a wrench toward the X-wing as Poe crouched down, inspecting the charred remains of his stabilizer. His face was smeared with grease, his usual cocky grin firmly in place.

“Insufferable, but still your favorite pilot.” He winked, catching the wrench effortlessly.

“Not if you keep wrecking my ships.”

Poe stood, brushing his hands off on his jumpsuit before strolling over, his expression softening. “Our ships,” he corrected, leaning slightly closer. “And I didn’t wreck it. I tested its limits. There’s a difference.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping back to the pile of spare parts. “You’re lucky Leia likes you. If it were up to me—”

“You’d still patch me up, admit I’m the best pilot in the galaxy, and maybe, just maybe, let me steal a kiss.” His voice dropped an octave, teasing but unmistakably sincere.

“You’ve got some nerve, Dameron.”

“Comes with the territory, sweetheart.”

The hangar was buzzing with activity. Resistance engineers and pilots hustled around, preparing for the next mission. The First Order wasn’t resting, and neither were you. Between repairing ships, running diagnostics, and dodging Poe’s relentless charm, your days were full.

Your relationship with Poe had always been one of banter and chaos. You’d met long before the Resistance days, back when he was just a reckless pilot with a dream too big for the galaxy. Somewhere between yelling at him for his stunts and patching up his scrapes, you’d fallen for him. And now, years later, he was yours—cockiness, charm, and all.

But even the best relationships had their moments. Like when Poe decided to crash his X-wing into an asteroid field during a routine scouting mission.

“You’re replacing the stabilizer this time,” you called over your shoulder, pulling wires from the damaged panel.

“You love doing this. Admit it.”

You spun to face him, hands on your hips. “Poe, if you don’t stop smiling like that, I swear—”

“What? You’ll kill me? That’s not very loving.”

“Loving? You’re lucky I haven’t throttled you already!”

Poe stepped closer, his grin shifting to something softer. “You wouldn’t. You love me too much.”

Your silence was enough of a confirmation.

Later that evening, the hangar was quiet. Most of the crew had gone to their bunks, leaving you alone with the soft hum of droids and the faint glow of lights. You were sitting cross-legged on the ground, surrounded by scattered tools and spare parts, still working on the stabilizer.

You didn’t hear him approach until you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind. His warmth enveloped you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Poe—”

“Shh,” he murmured. “Just... let me hold you.”

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of his presence melting away your frustration. His grip tightened slightly, pulling you closer.

“You’re impossible,” you whispered, leaning back into him.

“And yet, you’re still here.” His voice was softer now, laced with something deeper.

“I should’ve let you crash years ago.”

“But then who would keep you company in this freezing hangar?” He kissed your temple gently.

“Someone quieter.”

“Boring.”

You laughed despite yourself, turning slightly to look at him. His eyes were fixed on you, full of something that made your chest tighten.

“Why do you look at me like that?” you asked.

“Because you’re everything.”

Your breath caught, but before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was somehow both gentle and overwhelming.

Later, tangled together on the floor of the hangar under the dim lights, you traced lazy patterns along his chest. His fingers played with a strand of your hair, his expression uncharacteristically soft.

“You know, if you keep pulling stunts like today, I might actually throttle you one day,” you teased.

“Worth it,” he replied, smirking.

“Poe—”

“I mean it. Every crash, every argument, every late-night repair session. Worth it, as long as I get to end up here, with you.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you. “You’re such a sap.”

“Admit it, you love me.”

You leaned up, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Maybe.”

He grinned. “That’s good enough for me.”

As you both got dressed, Poe suddenly stopped, looking at you with that mischievous glint in his eye.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time you threaten to kill me, can you at least wear that flight suit? You know, the one with the—”

“Poe!”

“What? Just trying to make my inevitable demise worth it.”

You threw a wrench at him, missing by inches.

“Love you too, sweetheart!” he called, running out of the hangar.

[morningstargirl666]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Rewriting what was the old chapter 22 of TBBW (1920s Dance, Woo Woo!) and the last half, the klaroline half, has become a chapter all on its own. It's really building up to be one of my favourite chapters in the entire fic, and it's partly because I read @kirythestitchwitch's Crash Course which made me crave a cheeseburger so badly I wrote it into this fic. So here's a sneak peak --- don't let the fluff fool you, this chapter has its fair share of angst hehehe

“You know, I’m really surprised you didn’t insist on paying,” Caroline commented, unwrapping the paper around her cheeseburger as she settled back on the bonnet of Klaus’ car.

Klaus sat beside her, unwrapping his own burger as he stretched his legs out in front of him, one leg hanging off the side and resting on the upwards curve of the rim that snaked above the front wheels. Caroline leant back against the glass of the windscreen, relaxing into her spot as the sweet, steaming smell of the burger hit her — two seasoned patties topped with melted slices of creamy, cheesy goodness calling out to her from their package in a perfectly toasted, soft sesame seed bun, stuffed with crisp, curly lettuce and slices of fresh tomato. Up above, the light pollution from Mystic Falls was less intense so far away from the town, parked outside a quiet diner just off the Jackson highway. The stars were beginning to peak out from behind the clouds, the moon a quarter-full and shining down on them from the night sky above. Behind them, the warm glow of the diner spilled out onto the parking lot, employees wiping down tables and serving the odd exhausted truck driver behind the glass, like one gigantic, square-shaped fish bowl. The neon lights of the diner’s name, Wayback Burgers, flashed and flickered in the dark, reflecting red and blue light onto the wet pavement. 

“And why’s that?” Klaus asked, licking his thumb where the various condiments and sauces had leaked out of his large, triple stacked bacon cheeseburger and onto his hand. She’d felt weird ordering him nothing at the drive thru after she’d asked for the cheeseburger and fries, impulsively buying a milkshake to wash it all down with too. So she’d turned to him and asked if he’d wanted anything, and with some hesitancy, he’d ordered one of the meatiest burgers on the menu.

It was weird. The choice prodded something in her brain, seeming familiar. It was only when they got their burgers, Klaus eyeing his with a hunger that looked out of place on a vampire, that she realised why.

Tyler always ordered the meatiest thing on the menu too. Burgers, ribs, steak, chicken wings — it didn’t matter where they bought lunch, if there was an option to eat like a hungry pack of hyenas, he’d take it. Klaus had slightly more decorum, but the look was exactly the same.

“I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to be ancient?” she shot at him, setting the wrapping in her lap and taking her first bite of her burger. She sighed in bliss the moment the taste hit her tongue — it was truly a magnificent burger. The patties were seasoned to perfection, falling apart in her mouth, cheese melted onto them. The tomatoes and lettuce were fresh but not soggy, and the pickles buried beneath it all had an acid tang that balanced the whole thing out. “Old people are always moaning chivalry is dead,” she finished, holding a hand up to cover her mouth as she spoke around her food.

“And I seemed like the type?” he asked, glancing at her with a raised brow. His voice dropped to a dry drawl. “Why? Because I’m old or because I’m dead?”

She grinned, cheeks full of food. “Both,” she informed him happily, before chewing the last of it and swallowing. Klaus grunted, finally taking a bite out of his burger. Like her, he seemed to melt into the taste, some of the tension in his shoulders easing. She shrugged, eyeing him consideringly before turning her gaze back to her burger, folding down the wrapping. “Most guys get weird when I offer to pay.”

Tyler normally did. Matt had. Since both boys were on opposite sides of the financial spectrum, she kinda figured it wasn’t because of the money.

He looked at her then, searching her face for something. He swallowed his food before he spoke. “Did you want me to pay?”

She shook her head. “No. It was my idea to drag you out here. And you’re giving me a lift home after my car broke down even though I’ve rejected you like, a bajillion times. Least I could do was buy you a burger,” she teased, smile strained.

They hadn’t spoken about it, on the drive here. This thing between them; his jealousy towards Tyler and cruel actions earlier that night; the dozens of hesitant advances, if unwanted on her part. They weren’t friends.

Problem was, Caroline wasn’t sure if they were enemies either. 

Enemies didn’t show each other their personal artwork or unfinished sketches that were hidden away from even their family’s prying eyes. Enemies didn’t sit on a public bench and discuss lost dreams. And they certainly didn’t buy burgers at drive-thrus and eat them together under the starlit sky.

Klaus sighed, but didn’t seem offended. “I don’t think it was quite a bajillion times.”

“Yet,” she corrected cheekily, taking a big bite into her burger.

Instead of the scowl she expected, Klaus smiled fondly, following her lead and taking a bite too.

[readychilledwine]

Early Mornings

A/N - Happy Surprise Saturday, my loves ❤️ I've had Azriel pieces, an Eris piece, a Rhys piece, and a little love for our baby bat, and it only felt right to ensure our favorite General had sometime to shine. Enjoy this grumpy/sunshine or orange cat bf/Doberman gf piece.

Cassian and his mate are well matched in almost every sense. He's a powerful Illyrian general, she is the last of the Valkyries. He loves their family, she is devoted to them. The only thing they never seem to agree on is mornings.

Warnings- Swearing, mentions of alcoholism and mental health struggles, mentions of trauma, alludes to interesting behaviors between Nesta and our unnamed female oc, unedited by an outside source

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Cassian stood in front of the coffee maker. His arms were crossed as he watched each drop of liquid fall into the pot he was brewing for his mate, himself, and the two other fae living in the house. His mate finally entered the kitchen, flipping him off as he offered her a smile before sitting down.

Cassian adored mornings. He loved watching the sun as it began its ascend over the mountains. He loved the crisp chilled air. He loved breakfast. The sound of the birds greeting each other at first light. His mate, however, adored their nightlife. She was the last to rise out of bed. The last to leave the table at Rita's with Mor. The last to head to bed. She loved dinners, the stars reflecting on the Sindra. She loved the way music felt in her bones as she danced into the early morning. She loved quiet walks home with her heels in her hand after Cassian would inevitably show back up to retrieve her. She worshiped the moon, and he, the sun.

The one thing the two truly shared in common though, was their love and need for coffee. Cass was approachable before his first cup, chipper even. He glanced over his shoulder where his mate sat, her wings wrapped tight around her. Her hands held her head. Her long dark hair was falling over her shoulders. "Almost done, babe."

"Fuck. Off." His mate? Not so much. He chuckled lightly at her response before grabbing their matching coffee mugs. "Why the fuck did you wake me up?"

"You promised me you would go on a morning run with me. Remember? Setting an example for the females? Helping them by seeing one of their own training? Helping Nesta see-" She groaned loudly, rubbing her temples. "I'm sorry baby, I'll be quiet until coffee is done." He leaned across the counter, kissing her forehead.

His heart melted at her smile, it didn't reach her hazel eyes yet, but he knew it would only take a few more kisses and some coffee to change that. "Why are we being quiet?" Cassian laughed as his mate turned, grabbing the nearest object to her before throwing it at a laughing Azriel. "Awe sis! Are you grumpy this morning?"

"Go shovel pig shit, Azriel." His brother moved behind her, kissing the top of her head with a soft "good morning" while rubbing her back lightly. "Why the fuck are you two always so happy in the morning?"

Azriel shrugged. "We go to bed at a decent time."

Cassian nodded. "We are used to early morning routines."

Azriel continued. "We don't drink until we black out. Anymore."

"Training in the morning starts the day right."

"Training in the morning is eas-"

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up." Cassian and Azriel laughed quietly. "Where is my coffee?"

"Just finished, beautiful." Cassian was pouring the hot liquid into the third cup a shadow had handed him, giving it to Azriel. Then he filled his mate's and his own. "Sugar or cream, sweetheart?"

"Both, please?" Cassian nodded, fixing her coffee to her liking, before moving to sit next to her. "I love you," she whispered to him before kissing his jawline. "How long is the run?"

"Only 5 miles," Azriel said softly. "We cut in half after you decided to drink half the camp under the table last night. Wonderful job stealing Devlon's most expensive whiskey, by the way." A smirk graced his face as he peeked at her. "Has anyone dragged Nesta out of bed yet? Is she getting ready?"

The illyrian female rolled her eyes before looking at the pot with 4 cups of the morning magic still resting for the oldest sister. Her head leaned to rest on Cassian's shoulder. "I haven't tried yet, and we'd know if Cassian did. If you think I'm grumpy in the morning, Azriel, have you tried speaking to her in the mornings? She puts me to shame. You should go try. She likes your pretty face after all." She was sniffing her coffee, waiting for it to cool down with a small smile on her face.

Azriel took a long drink of his coffee, nose scrunching from the bitter taste. "No. That's your job. She actually likes you more."

He took her mug, a very quiet "oh fuck," came from Cassian's direction. He backed away from his brother and mate. "Fight fire with fire. Get at it." He forced her out of the chair, smacking her on the ass as he pointed up the stairs. "Go on. Earn your coffee by doing something other than my brother."

"Fuck. You. Cassian, get my coffee back." The General looked between his mate and brother. "Babe!" Cassian just shook his head and inclined it towards the stairs.

"Get Nesta up and I will get you your coffee back." He knew deep down his mate would be the perfect weapon against Nesta. He and his high Lady's sister had butted heads since she had been made and even before then. Az cared for Nesta, but his patience with the female only went so far. His mate's no bullshit, no prisoners attitude seemed to be one Nesta respected. The two got along really well.

Almost too well at times.

He'd find her and Nesta cuddled on the couches in the House, Nesta between her legs with her back against her chest, a blanket thrown over both of them as Nesta read romances and his love read thrillers or reports.

He would find them giggling in the library, his mate holding Nesta's face in her hands. She'd be whispering to Ness, whose face would be flushed, while she smirked at her. Their bodies would be close together. Nesta's hands would stay locked on his mate's hips.

He even found Nesta in their room once, waiting on their bed, staring at his wife's body while she was finishing her makeup. Just to tease Nesta, he had walked behind his mate, slowly lifting the hem of her short dress while staring at the oldest sister. His mate had stopped him quickly, but not before he watched Nesta pull her lower lip between her teeth.

The final sign that his hound of a mate liked the Archeron happened just yesterday morning. She had made Nesta coffee and breakfast, something she only did for him and his brothers. They were speaking to each other quietly, not realizing he and Az were watching. She had pulled out her special mug, the one Rhys had paid good money to have made for her, and given it to Nesta so she could tuck one of her cold hands into the little nook built into the stoneware while his mate held the other one.

He knew something was brewing between the two of them, and Cassian was more than happy to just watch through the bond, or in person, when it finally happened. He sighed softly. "You might be the only one able to get her down here and on that trail."

"You are joking, right? Nesta is a grown female. She is allowed to make her own choices and heal at her pace. You-" he cut her off with a kiss. She leaned into him with a soft hum. He couldn't tell if it was due to the bond or just due to the lingering taste of coffee on his lips.

"Go." He kissed her gently again. "We just have to get her training babe. Rhys is-"

"I know. I know how he is. This isn't his first go round with a female who is… like that." Cassian flinched at the reminder. His mind flashed back to the screaming matches between his mate and Rhysand after the first war. The journey she had undergone to heal was ugly, rough, and long. But the 4 of them had gotten through it together after she had overdrafted an account by close to 1000 gold marks.

Rhys had wanted to kill her, but what she had overdraft the account on was the ultimate sign she needed help and was silently crying out for it. The only way she knew how. Her pride ran deep due to her independence as an Illyrian and a female. The only daughter and first grand daughter of a long line of camp Lords who were forward enough to see value in their girls and ban clipping.

The oldest sister of 5 brothers who looked up to her and followed her guidance. An oldest sister who felt she failed those brothers as she found them dead one by one on the battlefield.

Leader of the valkyries. All of whom she also felt she failed as she watched them all slaughtered. She was the last of her kind, at least for now, and that had ate at her. It spun itself into guilt, addiction, rage.

Cassian and Azriel both remembered Rhys sitting her down in his office as they blocked the doorways. They remember her just silently nodding as Rhysand lectured her, having calmed down significantly when he realized she was so impaired that she wouldn't remember a single thing. They remembered her crying and Rhysand moving to hold her.

Azriel finally broke the trace the three had fallen into. "The only difference is you accepted help. You let all of us help you heal, get you new hobbies, and teach you how to safely partake in activities with us. The only sign of your issues you still have is how big of a bitch you are in the mornings and how you are literally Mor's "scary dog privilege," whatever the fuck that means, when she wants to stay out too late," Azriel mumbled. "I think Nesta wants help deep down. I just think she is too scared to face what getting help means and what she will have to face."

Cassian watched as his mate sighed and nodded. "There's a lot of trauma there. I was over 200 years old, Az. She's barely in her 20s."

"I know."

"Then be kinder." The two had a stare off, beginning a silent fight between the spymaster and the last Valkyrie.

Cassian grabbed her chin to refocus her, chuckling at the glare and sleepiness still in her eyes. "Get her out of bed and on the training field, and I will reward you later."

Azriel rolled his eyes as her wings fluttered, attitude suddenly leaving her body, and she leaned into Cassian, their noses touching. "What kind of reward?"

Cassian smirked down at her. "Whatever my sweetheart would want."

His mate smirked, shutting her eyes softly as he leaned his forehead against hers. "Even if it's just coffee?"

He nodded, kissing her forehead. "Even if it's just coffee."

[emeryhall]

Thank you to @bookish-bogwitch and @monbons for the tags! And thank you to everyone who tagged me on Sunday.

The last few chapters of Only Creatures are beasts. BEASTS! And I can only complete one a week if all of the stars align. The stars did not align for chapter 11. Instead, I was bitten by a dog on my run Friday. Plus side, if Simon is bitten in this fic, I now have descriptors at the ready and a new appreciation of puncture wounds.

Point being, chapter 11 will come out NEXT week, and, in the meantime, here is an excerpt:

I sit at a small round table in my hotel room, legs propped next to a notebook on its surface, tapping a pencil against my teeth. I feel full of words again. It’s just, the words are different now.  With the curtains peeled back, I can see the black, cut paper silhouette of the mountain where Simon and I kissed. It cups the city in its palm, and the words turn gold and bronze. They’re the color of Simon’s skin and hair. They’re the pattern of his moles and the curve of his curls. They’re red and ropey, pointy and spiked. They’re the sun through his wings, the nondescript blue of his eyes, his heat, his smell, the rough, slick stick of him against me. They’re all the facets of my heart: the smooth tissue, the moving muscle, the sharp edges, the heavy stone, the areas prickly and protected, coarse as sandpaper, the spots where I’ve melted like a red lollipop beneath Simon’s tongue.  From somewhere deep in the bowels of the hotel, a jack hammer rattles through the walls and I thunk the front legs of my chair back to the ground. The Bellagio is a fucking terrible place to write poetry.

Tags and hellos below!

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy @thewholelemon @raenestee

@mooncello @nightimedreamersworld @larkral @rimeswithpurple @shrekgogurt

@supercutedinosaurs @orange-peony @alexalexinii @facewithoutheart @best--dress

@noblecorgi @messofthejess @hushed-chorus @aristocratic-otter @roomwithanopenfire

@iamamythologicalcreature @fiend-for-culture

[azsazz]

To My Heart

Knox x Reader

Summary: Anon Request: Oh my gosh Knox is so adorable he has my heart and the head canon that he writes letters to his mate makes my heart melt

Warnings: None

Word Count: 759

Notes: You guys he’s just so cute 😭

_________________________________________

Knox sighs, head propped on curled fists as he watches the night sky. He’s leaned across the deep stone of his balcony, and as much as seeing the smattering of stars and the bright moon hanging high above him calms the male, he’s buzzing with nerves.

He’s tired, beyond so but he can’t sleep, and won’t until she writes him back.

His mate. The word still makes his heart rush in his chest, and he curls his fingers around the pen he’d been playing with to expel his nervous energy. His book sits open and abandoned on the lounger behind him, sketchbook tossed to the side in frustration because he couldn’t get the curve of her lips just right. Loose papers ruffle in the wind from where they’re pinned under the weight of his supplies, a gentle flutter that reflects the pounding of his heart.

Gods, he must be crazy, he thinks, pushing himself away from the overhang. Knox paces the short distance, stretching his wings as if that might stave off some of the nervous energy zipping through his body. She could be asleep, and for a fleeting moment he thinks he might just run and jump off the balcony to find out for himself. He doesn’t want to scare her away when she hardly knows the truth.

But he’d felt her amusement ringing down the bond as he read his letter. Or he assumed she was reading his letter. She could be doing several things instead; baking those treats she seems to like or maybe she’s also reading, lost in the adventures of her novel, not noticing the letter delivered on a bed of darkness.

His hands have a tremor to them, and he stuffs them into his pockets instead, rolling his eyes when his twin’s voice rings through his mind.

What are you doing? Go to sleep.

I can’t, he sends back, trying not to sound defeated. He doesn’t have an excuse, can’t think of one because he truly is bone tired after the day he’s had, training with his father and uncles this morning until noon before he’d been dragged out with Baz for drinks by the Sidra. That, had turned into his older brother stark naked in the cold waters, flirting with a wraith whose red, hot cheeks could’ve boiled the river dry.

Well, all that thinking is bothering me, she responds, and Knox knows his sister is scowling. It makes his lips twitch into a smile, her banter helping to distract him. And some of us need our beauty sleep.

He snorts. I didn’t know my twin was replaced with Zuz. Tell me sister, no midnight rendezvous? He knows she’s been sneaking out just as much as he has lately, and even though his shadows are shared with his sister and he can talk into her mind, even he doesn’t know where she slinks off to in the late hours of the night.

Not tonight, Malos yawns lazily and he cringes because he hates when she does that in his mind. Now fuck off and go to bed.

Love you too, Mal, Knox says, rolling his eyes once more as he feels the strong, steel shield of her mind slides back into place.

And then Knox is pacing again. Maybe he should go for a fly, the open air always makes him feel better. But if she does write him back then he might miss it and that’s the last thing he wants.

His attention is drawn to a whisper of darkness drifting across the night sky like its own cloud of black. It shrouds the moon as it passes and his heart jumps once, twice. Knox all but snatches the neatly folded paper from the grasp of night. He takes a deep breath and can smell her on it. It makes him shiver, like she’s right there with him, the scent of stardust and sugar invading his senses.

The flourish of her writing makes his heart ache. How delicate the curves of her letters are, how light, so the ink doesn’t seep through the paper, the thought she’d gone through to make it look so perfect for him. He traces the letters of his name idly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he stares, heart calm in his chest as he fingers over the shape of the heart, hastily drawn and still wet, as if she drew it and sent it off before she could change her mind.

Knox takes a deep breath and opens the letter.

[desultory-novice]

...UH OH...

Just kidding as this is all very good stuff, Mechalor Anon! Can't draw it, because it's a lot, but I will drop some corresponding text/lore on you, based specifically on your "The HWC misguidedly brings Zero Three back in Planet Robobot" concept (with a touch of the sword/brush thing) because it did latch onto my brain!!

(This is the LAST major event I do in this doomed timeline though)(1)

[Planet Robobot] [Apologies AU "Snowflakes" Timeline] [Secret Boss Fight - "NULL v0.3"]

:Kirby enters the room: :There is no one there: :Suddenly, the whole building shakes: :A horrific scream, overlayed atop itself, is heard:

:A door opens and Susie rushes out: :It shuts behind her, then shakes with a thud: :Eyes downcast, she murmurs to herself:

Susie: "...What is that machine thinking...? Why would the Mother Computer...ask for something that awful to be...?"

:She finally sees Kirby is here and puts her business face back on:

Susie: "Ahem! You're back! And you've found our secret lab."

Susie: "Clearly, you don't appreciate the miraculous wonders of science and technology as much as some of us..."

:The door bangs again, interrupting her: :There is another piercing dual scream:  :Susie flinches at the sound and begins shaking:

Susie: "...I can't do this anymore." 

Susie: "Listen, think what you like about us being here, but I just need a little more time. I can't let anyone interrupt this!"

Susie: "My original plan was to distract you with our latest in wide-area suppression, fresh off the assembly line but..."

Susie: "...I can't go back in there... We excavated this dreadful THING out of your planet, so YOU handle it...!"

:The door behind her opens as she flees the scene: :Slowly, white sludge begins to spill out from the open door: :It rises into a burbling bubble with a single slit of a closed eye:

:The bubble then cracks right down the middle where the eye sits: :The split orb unfolds into two limp halves each with a smaller, half-lidded eye: :Inside each of the sphere halves one melted-looking half of two figures, a boy and a girl: :Each vaguely familiar figure has a single wing (one dark, one light) made of grasping fingers:

-

[BOSS: NULL v0.3] - Pause Screen

Of all the biological data the Haltmann Works Company unearthed from this planet, the Mother Computer seemed especially interested in this. However, it found it could not fully analyze it to its satisfaction due to the "unknown bond" sustaining the creature's core. It would ultimately deem the project a failure.

[IE: Star Dream is trying to understand Zero for its own purposes but cannot and could never understand the deep "love" that ultimately brought about Zero Three; just like it could not understand Haltmann's love and would delete it]

[BOSS: NULL v0.3 EX] - Pause Screen

Though Susie always tried to follow the mother computer's directives faithfully, she deeply questioned this particular project. When the directive came to "use" the creature in spite of the unhappy children's souls inside, it strengthened her conviction that Star Dream had to be separated from her father.

[In EX form, the sibling-goo is dark matter black instead of snowflake white; Noir's wing is blood red instead of corruption purple; their eyes remain the same]

-

NULL v0.3 plays out as a very unusual boss fight. It is somewhat timed, because v0.3 will damage itself with its "attacks," thrashing about. And if you leave it alone for long enough, it will kill itself. Or you can defeat it with regular copy abilities. Both of these lead to the "normal" boss fight ending, where v0.3 rips itself apart, both sides screaming as the white bodies melt away into nothing. 

However, like in Super Star, this boss will provide you with special, unique battle-limited Copy Abilities if you inhale the right attacks from it: "Dark Sword" and "Light Painter."

Attacking the "swordsman" side of v0.3 with the Dark Sword ability will make it attack you more aggressively. However, if you try to turn Dark Sword ability on the "painter" side, you will be met with a vicious, un-blockable counterattack from the swordsman side that will knock the ability out of you and cause it to swap sides again.

If you try to use Light Painter on the swordsman side, it will cower away in the background, ...guiltily... keeping its distance, however you can lure the painter side closer to you and reduce its aggression levels again by attacking the painter side with Light Painter.

If you succeed in the task of defeating v0.3 with proper use of the two copy abilities, you are rewarded with a different end fight cutscene, where the white body coalesces into a giant sphere once more before melting away, revealing Adeleine and Noir, looking as they did before, who then dissipate peacefully into sparkles...

--

...Man I want to make video games so bad...

AHEM! Here's Mechalor Anon's uncropped asks that inspired this!

Thanks for the appreciation and glad you liked what I did with Zero Three! Sorry I couldn't include Bandee in this more. I really did dig the idea of him using the paintbrush like a spear though!

-

PS: NO MORE HURTING THEM, OKAY? ^^ ; < message to myself

-

(1) I say this again to myself because after the "good" ending, someone out there is going to suggest, "Well, if they were purified they could come back in Star Allies! Maybe each of them sporting white hair! They could be a swap character, like the Mage Sisters. It would make King Dedede happy..." which... okay, sure, maybe yes!

Bu~t I have a huge backlog of stuff INCLUDING other Apologies stuff to do so I'm still declaring Snowflakes to be a "failed Noir" timeline!